


Broad Strokes

by AlwayswiththeBS



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwayswiththeBS/pseuds/AlwayswiththeBS
Summary: Single mom Buffy Summers has her hands full with her daughter, her job and re-applying for college. She is a firm believer in the "once bitten, twice shy" school of thought where her heart is concerned. So what is she to do about the instant zing she feels for her best friend's mysterious stepbrother?Artist and rebel, Will Pratt aka Spike had it all. A career on the fast track and a woman for the ages by his side. Or so he thought. Heartbroken and without a muse, he moves to sleepy little Sunnydale at his mother's behest. He is only looking for some motivation to get back to his calling. So why does his stepbrother's best friend and her little niblet bring out his long buried protective side?AU/AH. My first stab at writing fanfic so constructive criticism is welcome!:)Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sun was already up when Buffy awoke with a start choking on what felt like..hair? A little arm was wrapped tightly around her with a sweet little face burrowed in her neck, one pudgy little leg thrown across her stomach.

Buffy gently brushed her daughter’s hair away from her own face and smiled at the little bundle cuddled around her. Dawn looked so peaceful while she slept,almost angelic. Buffy snorted. Her mini-me was a hellion at best and a tornado with legs when hopped up on sugar.

Even now, her precocious nature peeked out in the little wrinkle on her forehead as she dreamt.

Buffy grinned and laid a quick kiss on said forehead before turning to glance at the clock on the bedside table. Eep! Late again!

‘Dawnie. Honey, wake up.’ she tried to rouse her daughter ‘You’re gonna be late for school, sweetheart.’ She managed to wake the sleepy toddler and directed her to the bathroom with a little pat on her bum. She tied her hair in a serviceable ponytail and walked into the kitchen mentally running through her schedule for the day.

Dawn’s nursery school was on the other side of town from the accountant’s firm where Buffy worked as a secretary and that meant most days her best friend Xander dropped her to school. Xander owned his own construction company and kept much more flexible work hours than Buffy. 

Xander Harris along with Willow Rosenberg had been her first and closest friends since a sixteen year old Buffy had moved to the sleepy town of Sunnydale along with her mother after the latter’s divorce.

Buffy had been drowning then. Angry, alone, an outcast. The two lovable geeks had adopted her into their little group. Given her support which Joyce had wanted to but was unable to give her only daughter because of her own problems.

Xander and Willow knew something about dysfunctional families after all. Xander’s parents had fought bitterly every day of his life till his mom died in an accident during his eighteenth year. Willow’s parents were cold intellectuals who perhaps treated their child as a socio-psychological experiment.

Buffy had reciprocated their love and acceptance always. Most recently when Willow had come out after a long and miserable year of heart-break. And Xander, when he had come back engaged to a brash Anya from his annual solo trips which had been a tradition since the year his mum had passed on.

As Buffy made breakfast, she sent a silent, heartfelt thank you to the Powers That Be for giving her such stubborn friends who always had her back. She honestly wasn’t sure where she would’ve been without them.

Dawn was chattering away a mile a minute as Buffy got her ready. Buffy smiled and nodded absentmindedly, keeping an eye on the clock waiting for Xander. She had missed her boy bestie. That’s manly man friend to you! She chuckled as she imagined his response to being called a boy. Xander had spent his summer in London helping his stepbrother pack up and make the move to Sunnydale. Buffy wasn’t sure why an up and coming artist such as Will Pratt, aka Spike- (She snorted again. Where did that pet name originate from she wondered. Perhaps he have a railroad spike tattooed to his forehead?) would move to her sleepy little town from the happening metropolis of London.

Well, she never did understand the artsy types. Case in point her new (read only) work friend Tara, a shy sweet blonde who talked of auras and spiritual cleanses like they were the norm. A gypsy soul trapped in an accountant’s body. Buffy snorted again.

‘Mommy! It’s not funny! Charlie could’ve died!’ whined Dawn. Buffy abruptly came back to the present as she braided her daughter’s hair ‘Huh? Charlie who?’

Her daughter gave a long suffering sigh ‘Charlie-Our class turtle. Robbie almost sat on him by mistake!’

‘Well I’m sure he is fine,’ she reassured the little brunette. ‘Did you remember to pack your crayons?’ ‘Of course mommy.’ Dawn said, rolling her eyes.

Buffy smiled and tweaked her button nose just as they heard Xander’s customary knock on the door.

Dawn ran down the stairs to greet her favorite uncle. She had missed Uncle Xan after all. He had always treated her like an adult. She was too grown up for baby-talk. She sniffed. Why she was nearly four and a half! 

He had promised to take her to the beach every day during the summer. But he had to go away suddenly. He had sat her down and explained to her that he was going to go spend some time with his brother who was sad. (Her chin had wobbled without her permission but she had tried very hard not to cry at that even though a few tears had leaked out) Sigh! She knew her Uncle Xan’s hugs were magical and always made her feel better.

Uncle Xan’s brother...Granny Annie’s son! Granny Annie was Uncle Xan’s stepmother. She was sweet and always gave her candy (or toffees as she called them) when Dawn went over to visit.

She loved Granny Annie. Granny Annie was always full of hugs and praises for her sweet ‘Miss Dawn’. She had told her many funny stories of her naughty son, William when he had been a ‘wee little lad’ and she couldn’t wait to meet him. Well if he carried sweets in his pocket like his mommy, Uncle Xan might have some competition for the title of her ‘Favorite’ uncle! She giggled as she threw the door open and smiled. ‘Uncle Xan!You’re back!’ She flew into his arms and hugged him.

Xander grinned down at the hyperactive bundle in his arms ‘Someone missed their favorite uncle huh, Dawnster?’ He threw her in the air a couple of times and caught her, smiling at her happy shrieks.

He looked up and grinned at one of his oldest friends enveloping her in a one armed bear hug with his free hand. ‘Hi Buff’.

‘It’s so good to see you!’ Buffy mumble against his chest. She let go of him and moved slightly away to look at him. ‘I’ve bee-’ Her eyes widened as they fell on Xander’s companion who had been hitherto hidden from her view. She couldn’t help the sudden gasp that escaped her. She was pretty sure her jaw had dropped to the floor and she was drooling all over her mother’s fancy welcome rug.

Xander noticed that his friend seemed unable to string words together and stepped up to make the introductions ‘Buffy, this is Will. Will, my best friend Buffy’

Buffy was quite sure the earth shifted on its axis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter! As usual reviews are given the "red carpet" welcome!

Chapter 2

 

A few hours earlier

As the ray of sunlight hit his eyes, Will awoke in his new bed. For a moment, he was content. Basking in that little moment between sleep and wakefulness before your mind wakes up fully to remind you of all the ways your life is screwed. As his mind recalled the last few months, he groaned and covered his eyes with an arm. Well there goes the contentment.

Until last May, Will had had it all. His work had been finally getting recognised by the critics in London as his second art show had firmly put his career as an artist on an upward trajectory. With his muse by his side, he had basked in his success. He had felt invincible. God, he was an idiot. A cocky fool strutting around as though he owned the world. How all of it had changed that one day in June when she had ripped out his heart, thrown it to the ground and danced on it. Drusilla. God just her name was enough to nearly break the wall he had carefully built around his emotions. That wall was the only thing that helped him wake up day after day and go through the motions that had become his mockery of a life.

And it hadn’t been enough that she had left him heartbroken. Oh no. If there was one thing that could be said about Dru it was that she did not do anything by halves. She had left him unable to lift a paintbrush. He had been a genius at blending the right colours to evoke emotions in even the most jaded of art aficionados. One of London’s most respected art critics had written about his best work :

“At first glance, Pratt’s Dusk in her arms seems deceptively underwhelming. Broad brush strokes of vivid reds and mauves made up the blurred face of a woman in the throes of obvious passion in the backdrop of a vivid sunset. But give it time, absorb the canvas in and you will find a sudden surge, a spike of emotions within yourself, as though the canvas has suddenly become a mirror showing you that hidden, most hedonistic part of yourself, the banality of your very existence stripped off.”

Will snorted, his publicist, Clem had taken the praise and run with it, going so far as to making Spike his moniker, the stupid term catching on quickly with his fans. His face melted into a facsimile of a smile. It was very hard to paint when all colors seemed to appear dull almost muted as though he was looking at them underwater. As it was he barely felt up to painting a fucking wall let alone anything more complicated. His eyes burned and he pressed his palms into them. Another thing to thank his bitch of an ex for.

Going back to sleep being out of the question, Will got up, walked around his brand new apartment and decided to get ready for the day. His step-brother Xander would be here soon.

Xander and his lovely fiancée Anya were going to show him around town today.

His thoughts wandered to his stepbrother as he went about his morning ablutions. His mother had introduced his stepbrother to him when she had Skyped him a few years back informing him of her quickie marriage to Xander’s father. They had kept in touch via text and the infrequent calls until Xander had spent one of his yearly getaways in London.

At first Xander had seemed a little too wholesome for his rebel sensibilities. But on getting to know his brother better, he had uncovered that Xander had a wicked sense of humor and streak of loyalty a mile wide. Once you were made a part of the 'Xander Harris inner circle', you had a friend for life. And Will had somehow managed to get lucky enough to earn his stepbrother’s unwavering loyalty.

He had not thought twice to head up to London to help him “get packed up to move to Sunnydale”. He snorted. He had been drowning. On a downward spiral of self destruction since that day in June. Left alone to cope his heartache without his only constructive outlet. His mother had sensed it in their last call and immediately called in reinforcements in the form of one pushy little stepbrother. He had taken the next flight across the pond and managed to heckle and hound him back from his drunken haze over the next couple of months. He probably owed his life to the dark-haired menace.

He was startled out of ruminations at the series of annoying and obnoxious car honks outside his house. He sighed, speak of the devil. He headed out his door and joined Xander on what he thought would be another insignificant day in his pathetic life.

If only he had known how wrong he was.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Revello Drive-Present

 

Buffy stared and stared. She was pretty sure her vision was blurred around the edges as her focus was solely on Will.

The newcomer was in a word gorgeous. Cheekbones that could cut glass, a slender yet well-muscled frame, bleached blond hair - slicked back and dressed in black from head to toe.

She shivered slightly, a small part of her brain (Logic!Buffy if you will) which had retained its ability to think was marvelling at the fact that this person was diametrically different from Buffy’s usual type. She usually went for the all-American brawny jocks who had a good foot on her. (To her knowledge punk rock wannabes were not what got her motor going usually.) This stranger was closer to her height though still quite a bit taller than her. Makes it easier to reach for his pretty face. And bring it down to her level. And initiate the mother of all smooch-fests that could only end in one way with both of them naked and satisfied. An evil voice inside her whispered. Ooh sexy times. Haven't had those in forever.

But it was his eyes that caught her attention. Framed by eyebrows, one of which was sexily nicked, (Logic!Buffy distantly wondered how imperfections such as nicked eyebrows can be sexy.) his eyes were two deep pools of bright blue and Buffy found herself ready to go for a long swim. They widened briefly, perhaps he was as aware of her as she was him. Before she saw him tense and curl his fists at his side as though to stop himself from reaching for something. Abruptly his expression changed and his mouth curled in a knowing smirk while his eyes continued to smoulder at her.

She vaguely was aware that her heartbeat had rapidly increased to match her breathing, her tummy swooped and she felt pretty sure her cheeks would set off the fire alarm.

William was finding it very difficult to maintain his composure. Oh God. He stared at Xander’s petite friend in wonder. Buffy Summers was beautiful, all golden skin and gorgeous blonde hair. A lovely face surrounding bright hazel eyes and a full pouty mouth. Buffy was as different from her as day was from night. And this made him wonder at his instant attraction to the blonde in front of him. He usually went for tall willowy brunettes not petite, perky blondes.

More ironic still was the fact that just a few seconds of intense staring at her and he itched for his paintbrush. Warm yellows and bright oranges, sunshine with a hint of spice. He clenched his fists at his side to stop from reaching for her then and there. He was quite sure she was similarly affected as he noticed the blush rising on her face. He reined in his expression and smirked at her, effectively hiding his inner turmoil from her.

Xander fell silent as the air seemed to turn electric around him. He looked to and fro between Buffy and his stepbrother as though following an intense tennis match. Something was happening here. The air felt balmy all of a sudden. By virtue of being a human of the male variety, the nuances of non-verbal interaction were generally lost on him. That being said, he was quite sure whatever was happening between his best friend and his step-brother was making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Buffy and Will? Nah. He must be mistaken. Buffy like the duplicitous buff jocks who seemed wholesome at first glance and Will liked emotionally stunted brunette bitches with probable daddy issues that left him with enough problems to warrant keeping a therapist on retainer.

He was pulled back to the present by a tiny hand on his cheek. Xander turned his face slightly to look at the little girl still in his arms. ‘Uncle Xan’ Dawn said worriedly. ‘I think something is wrong with mommy! Why is she so red?’

Buffy stopped her ogling at that and looked at her daughter, her concerned comment not helping her reddened cheeks. She ignored Will’s chuckle at that.

‘I’m fine, honey. Just a little warm.’ Dawn, thankfully seemed satisfied with that answer and turned her complete focus on Will. She wiggled in Xander’s arm till he got the hint and dropped her to the floor.

Dawn stood in front of a bemused Will, gave him a bright smile and raised her arms in the universal toddler gesture for ‘I’d liked to be picked up now please’. Will looked down at her, quirked his scarred eyebrow, gave a small shrug and bent down in front of the little girl to pick her up much to Buffy’s surprise.

He straightened with Dawn in his arms, looking at her warily. Dawn flashed another heart-melting smile at him, wrapped her little arms around him and gave him a tight hug as though she had known him for a long time.

‘Uncle Will! Can I call you that?’ Before he could open his mouth to answer, she continued, ‘Grannie Annie has told me so much about you! Did you really jump out your window and climb down an apple tree when you were my age?! When I said I didn’t believe it, Granny Annie said I should ask you myself’ She held his face between her hands and squinted into his eyes and changed the topic ‘You have pretty eyes! My favorite dress is that exact color!’ She smiled again and Will couldn’t help the grin that graced his features.

Buffy stared at the incongruous picture her daughter and Will made. Her brightly coloured dress contrasting against his black leather, matching grins on their faces. And Will’s grin so didn’t help the tightening of her belly.

Xander cleared his throat breaking through her scrutiny. ‘Well Buff, we will be making like trees and leaving now. Catch up at Bronze, Saturday evening?’ Buffy nodded, smiled and sent the trio off on their merry way with her daughter talking her new friend’s ear off.

She needed a minute to make her knees stop quivering before she could go on with the rest of her day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Anne Harris sipped from her tea cup and smiled at the picture her two boys made, playfully taunting each other as only brothers could. And yet, she marvelled at the fact that they hadn’t even met until they were both grown up. Right from their contrasting hair colour- Xander’s lovely warm brown and Will’s bleach blonde locks (She wrinkled her nose at that unnatural colour. My darling used to have such beautiful brown curls.) to their feet- the former clad in comfortable sneakers and the latter in clunky Doc Martens, two more different men couldn’t exist. Physically at least.

She knew deep down both men had such warm hearts. Both loved completely and blindly. Unfortunately both of them had learned to keep their hearts protected very early in the young lives. Parents played such an important role in the kids’ emotional development. She shook her head. Her first husband had been a traditionalist. He believed in the idea that parents played the role of disciplinarians and not friends. He had thankfully never used corporeal punishment against his son. But unfortunately he had also given his only child the impression that his affection needed to be earned. And her darling had tried and how! He had bent over backwards to be the best in academics and sports thirsting for the smallest signs of affection from his father. An affectionate pat on the back or a hug. But to no avail. Anne had struggled to bridge the gap between the two but she was always shut down by the senior Pratt. While her son kept pushing himself to the extent that he had forced himself to be happy in as conventional a profession as law. However one can only take so much before one breaks. Something had happened in college and he had ended up reinventing himself as the uncaring rebel he projected to the world even today. But she knew her son. She knew that sweet little boy who used to bring her flowers whenever she fell ill was still there somewhere.

And that slattern he had associated with for the last few years had not helped his heart. She knew her son had been vulnerable when her first husband had died suddenly. The dirty vulture had swooped in and taken advantage of her boy. She recalled the Skype call when she had been introduced to the vile woman. She had seen something evil glinting in her eyes that day. Her William had been blind to her faults and Anne was reluctant to say anything that might drive a wedge between the mother and son and throw him more deeply into that woman’s snare.

At least he was out of her influence now. And he seemed to be getting better slowly. She knew she owed a lot to Xander for this.

She turned her attention to her other son. Xander’s familial situation while growing up had not been ideal. From the stories she had heard from Willow and Buffy, her second husband and Xander’s mum had no love lost for each other. Their frequent and sometimes public altercations had taught him from a very young age to not rely on his family for emotional support. And so he had given all the love he had to his friends, first Willow and later Buffy as well had become his surrogate family. These three had a bond which was rather enviable. They loved each other almost as much as siblings would. Well, Anne supposed. There are different types of families.

Her mind turned to her second husband invariably. Anthony Harris had gone through a remarkable change of character over the last few years or so.

His earlier abrasive and rude nature had left him quite alone after the untimely death of his wife. Most of his friends had quietly sympathised with his wife for the emotional abuse she had suffered at her husband’s hands and after her death wanted nothing to do with a cynical alcoholic whose behaviour had somehow worsened after the death of his favorite punching bag. He had lost his son a long time before that. After Xander’s mother had died, the kind-hearted boy had tried to reconnect with his father but the grieving boy’s advances had been rebuffed mercilessly. Eventually he had given up and sought comfort where he had always found it-in the arms of his two best friends.

Human beings however broken cannot survive isolation and Anthony’s weakened mental state coupled with a deep yet unjustified anger at the world and his rampant alcohol abuse had culminated in a heart attack that had nearly killed him.

Nothing like a close brush with death to make you re-evaluate your life. Anne thought. Anthony had taken that first most difficult step and decided to sober up and try to reclaim whatever was left of his life. He had never touched a single drop of alcohol since. Without his favorite crutch, he was able to find other more constructive ways to vent that always present anger. Woodworking. She thought looking at the beautiful cherry wood coffee table her husband had made her as a wedding present.

In the earlier days before he had overcome the shame of his alcohol-fueled actions, he had churned out wooden furniture and knick knacks with an enthusiasm that was almost manic. One of his new friends from AA who owned a furniture boutique in Los Angeles had been quite impressed with his work and had commissioned some pieces for his shop which had unsurprisingly been huge successes. And Anthony had found a new purpose that anchored his sobriety - Creating beauty out of pieces of wood. It was also how he had met Anne. She had been on one of her annual trips to upgrade the Pratt mansion room by room (Just an excuse really to stave off the boredom that had set in once she had got over the staggering grief of her husband’s death.)

She had seen a beautiful birchwood dining table carved in an elegant Victorian style which had captured her attention. Anne had been determined to meet its creator and see if he could help her furnish the entire dining room back home. She had been charmed by the reclusive artist. During their first meeting, he had been so sweet, awkwardly stumbling over his words in a bid to impress her. It was his vulnerability that had reeled her in. They had become fast friends and Anne found herself reluctant to head back home once her trip had come to an end. She had extended her stay for a few more days, then weeks, until finally she had spent six months away from home. William had been busy with his first show and she realised she had nothing to go back to in London.

By then she and Tony had moved past friendship and confessed to each other that they couldn’t imagine spending what was left of their lives apart. They had married shortly thereafter and Anne had become a colonist’s bride. Anne knew of the entire sorry tale of Tony’s relationship with his son and she knew of his desire to mend fences with his estranged son. He had spent an entire afternoon sobbing in her arms while he divulged the details of his appalling behaviour as an alcoholic. Anne had been flabbergasted, unable to reconcile her gentle Tony with the vile being from his admissions. Why, if anyone else had mentioned his previous behaviour, she would have branded that human being the biggest liar in all of creation!

She had decided then and there, that she would try her best to gap the bridge between these two men who were in such obvious pain.

Xander had been initially wary of his new step-mother. He had not believed it possible for his father to turn over a new leaf and had politely yet firmly asked Anne to stay out of it. It had taken Anne a substantial amount of time to gain his trust enough to get him to even meet his father. It had been awkward, their reunion. Xander had rebuffed all his father’s advances and it was understandable. Tony had been frustrated and words had been said that evening that did not bear repeating. Anne shuddered thinking of it. She had managed to calm them down. She had eventually worn down Xander’s defenses over the next few weeks and now at least Xander managed to be polite to his father though not able to trust the permanence of the change sobriety had brought in his father’s demeanour. She knew Tony was disappointed at not being able to mend his relationship further but Anne had faith that someday those two would have the kind of relationship a father and son should have.

Xander was such a sweet boy and so good to her. They had a special relationship. While she had never tried to replace his mother, she knew that she was the closest thing the boy had to one and she wouldn’t want it any other way. She had always wanted a large family but circumstances had prevented her having more kids after William.

However she was grateful to Xander, he had not only given her a place in his heart but given her more surrogate children to love in the form of Eliza and Willow and Eliza’s sweet little girl, Dawn.

And how could she forget Anya, her future daughter-in-law. A sweet girl. A little rough around the edges but her honesty was refreshing. She was the perfect foil to Xander. Blunt where he was diplomatic. Impulsive where her stepson was cautious. And above all, she was head over heels in love with him and Anne had often see her look at him as though Xander hung the stars and the moon. Well, Xander deserved that and so much more. He had so much love to give and it was good that Anya appreciated him and loved him right back.

The three men in her life (ironically all so different in personality) had found professional fulfilment in working with their hands. Anthony created furniture, Will used the canvas as his medium and Xander...Well Xander made homes. She liked to think that two out the three had also found their ideal mates.

Now if only her William could find someone as perfect for him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buffy sat at her favorite table in the Bronze, slurping her Mojito while she listened to Xander and Anya bicker over something ridiculous that she couldn’t recall. They probably didn’t either. It was such a regular thing between the two that she wonder if they didn’t get off on it. She wrinkled her nose. Ewwww! I so don’t need the visuals of Xander and Anya getting it on. She looked around the club, bobbing her head to the music and wondering when Tara would get there. So she didn’t feel like a third wheel on the Xander-Anya Love Wagon. She pouted. She missed Willow. Willow was her favorite dance partner of the non-romantic variety. Buffy sighed. But Willow was in Japan for a month for a tech convention. Her best friend was a freelance tech prodigy who served as a consultant to many top tech companies in California. Luckily, she had the freedom work remotely most days from Sunnydale or Buffy would be having serious and prolonged best friend withdrawal. Well she’ll be back soon. She huffed and turned her attention back to her table mates who were sucking face now. Like there was no tomorrow. Like the rest of the Bronze didn’t exist. Like she wasn’t gagging here. Buffy rubbed her palms against her eyes to get rid of the visuals. If Anya started climbing Xander right there (which seemed like a logical progression to their gross display) she was going to stick a fork in her eye and scramble her brains around. Just as she picked up a fork and was in the process of gauging its tines for brain-scrambling feasibility, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

‘Tara! You made it!’ Buffy squealed and hugged her savior tighter than was probably necessary for a ‘hello’ hug. ‘Guys, this is Tara. Tara, that’s Xander and his fiancée, Anya.’ The couple resurfaced for a quick mumbled hello before turning back to each other. A blushing Tara stuttered a soft greeting and turned to Buffy. Buffy rolled her eyes at the amorous couple and said to Tara ‘Let’s go dance before these two completely forget that the meaning of the words ‘public indecency’ and I see more of Xander than I can stomach. Blegh.’ Tara smiled, nodded and the two blondes headed to the dance floor.

Tara was a surprisingly co-ordinated dancer for a shy, blush-y, awkward person and pretty soon Buffy forgot herself and started moving to the beat.

Will walked into the Bronze after his mother kicked him out of her house and asked him to spend some time socialising with Xander and his friends. He scanned the room for the whelp, found him alone at a table and sauntered towards him. Will playfully whacked him upside the head and went ‘Why you all alone? Your friends finally figure out you’re a straight-laced bore and abandon ya?’

Xander rolled his eyes but refused to rise to the bait. He nodded towards the dance floor. Will shifted in his seat to look at the dance floor. He saw Anya bopping around to the music, all long limbs and awkwardness and grinned. His future sister-in-law was a hoot. He knew she rubbed many people the wrong way with her brash, incisive comments but he found honesty in women refreshing (Manipulative bitches being the only female company he had managed to keep until recently). And Anya could make his stuffed shirt whelp of a stepbrother blush with her R-rated comments which was always good for a laugh.

He moved his gaze to her partners, there was a tall curvy blonde who was gracefully moving her hips to the music. She would’ve held his attention if not for the shorter blonde next to them. Will found his gaze snap to her like a magnet and couldn’t look away if he had wanted to. 

Her dress was short and tight and he wondered if it was painted on. It showed off all her curves to perfection as she undulated her hips to the music. He didn’t even notice when Xander got up and moved past him to take a call and he was alone at the table. Her hands were bunched up in her hair as she moved in rhythm with the blonde next to her. Even though the her back was to him, Spike knew it was Xander’s friend, Buffy. She who was wreaking havoc on his tenuous peace of mind. She turned around sensually to face his table and her eyes met his. He almost felt her shiver of recognition as she stared at him, missing the beat. She recovered quickly, smirked at him and started moving her hips again. Without breaking eye contact, she twisted her hips around in small sensual circles and moved her hands back to her hair. She curved her spine before thrusting her chest out, drew one hand down to her waist, hips, further down to the hem of her too short dress. Will’s heated gaze followed her hand while he pushed back into his chair to prevent himself from striding to the dance floor, pulling her against him and letting the vixen rub all over him. God but she was beautiful when she moved. So alive. Poetry in motion. Will flagged down a passing waiter, without looking at him and made a request. He did not notice the waiter’s curious gaze as he scuttled off to bring him what he required. He was so engrossed in the woman in front of him he almost didn’t notice when the waiter came back with a pencil and a piece of paper. Will finally broke their eye contact. Stared at the empty sheet in front of him for a beat before picking up the pencil and letting his fingers dance on the paper.

Buffy didn’t know what had come over her. Invasion of the Slutbag much? She cringed inwardly and blushed at her behaviour from a few seconds ago. She was quite sure if Will had not broken his eye contact, she would’ve provoked him more till she was escorted out of the only club. She could imagine the bouncer’s words as he threw her out ‘Sorry.You must be in the wrong place, the strip club is that way.’ She shook her head and turned back to her partners. Anya was smirking at her knowingly while Tara was blushing and unable to look her in the eye. Great! Now her friends knew of her inner ho. Thankfully the song changed to a peppy fast number and pretty soon the three of them were dancing away. Buffy found herself enjoying the thumping music so much that she almost forgot the force of the blue-eyed stare a few moments ago. Almost.

Will looked down at his rough sketch and grimaced before crumpling the paper and letting it fall on the table with a sigh. It was missing something. Sunshine and spice. She is not meant to be in shadows. This woman was made for colors. Will mused. She was an overwhelming kaleidoscope. Blond hair, golden skin, pouty red lips and hazel eyes. Oh God, those eyes.he could drown in them if he allowed himself too. This woman was going to drive him off off the bloody cliff. He abruptly got up and stalked out of the club. His mind occupied on what colours he would need to mix the exact shade of her eyes.

Buffy saw him leave disappointedly and wondered what had happened to make him leave so suddenly. She found herself unable to keep up her enthusiasm for dancing, made an excuse of needing to sit down to Tara and Anya and headed to the table. She sat down, looked at Anya and Tara still on the floor, before her hand brushed a crumpled ball of paper lying on the table as she reached for her half-finished drink. She remember Will, his bleached blond head bent down with intense focus after he had abruptly stopped paying attention to her near strip show. She unfolded the paper and stared. And stared. He had drawn...her! She looked...unbelievable. Like a goddess. She had one hand tangled in her hair and her hips seemed to be in motion. It was an unbelievable likeness but what stumped her was her face. He had captured her expression and she could see everything she had felt when she had danced for him reflected on the paper. Her eyes were at half mast but there was a glint of something there.

She was scared to give it a name. It had been so long since she’d felt that emotion. No. That was wrong. She had tamped it down for too long. It had never ended well for her. And she was especially more careful now that there was another person who wholly depended on her and could suffer from that misplaced and unwanted emotion. Somewhere over the years, since her first boyfriend in high school had taken her virginity and called her a freak to all his friends the very next day, she had developed a twisted relationship with it. It was pure and raw desire.

She stared at the picture for what felt like hours, when she heard Xander approach, ‘Hey Buff,

Where did Will go?’ She surreptitiously slipped the drawing in her purse. She did not care to know why. ‘I am not sure. He left in an awful hurry.’ She reached for her neglected drink

As Anya and Tara slipped into the chairs beside her, out of breath, Xander replied ‘Huh, something probably came up.I’ll check up on him later tonight.’

Anya snuggled into his side, looked up at Buffy and smirked ‘Maybe he couldn’t handle Buffy’s mating dance.’ Buffy sputtered and choked on her drink while Tara giggled in the background.

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Later that night Will finally broke out of his zone and looked around him. His apartment looked as though a hurricane had swept through it. Papers all around. All of them dotted with the same pair of large expressive eyes. All of them different shades of green. He stared down at the paper he was working on and smiled. There they were.The eyes that had been haunting his sleep for the last few nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always reviews are welcome!


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